


Oh, To Make the Rich Bleed

by butyoumight



Category: Kaizoku Sentai Gokaiger, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars: Force Unleashed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Gen, Multiple Crossovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-12 14:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butyoumight/pseuds/butyoumight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>We have one chance, one chance to get everything right. We have one chance, one chance, and if we're lucky we might.</i> </p><p>An alternate ending to The Force Unleashed. An alternate telling of A New Hope. An alternate birth of a New Jedi Order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Starkiller

He should not have survived. He knew this much. He remembered the pain of the Emperor's mastery over lightning. Even his own prodigious ability could not allow him to redirect the devastating anger of the Dark Side, not when he was being so selfless. The Light Side of the Force embraced sacrifice.

He intended to die, truthfully this time. To save the man who he had begun to think of as a friend, the woman he might be falling in love with. Only this would distract the Sith lords long enough for the still fetal Rebellion to escape.

His consciousness was shattered, each facet drifting in and out of focus. He was in his body, wracked with tremors as the electric discharge found ways out. Crisping skin, sparking down the conductive metals Vader had intended to improve him with. He was above this grim tableau, listening to the Emperor and his Apprentice speak of him in the past tense. He was half-way across the Galaxy with his friends and allies as they sat silently, the ship boring untraceably through hyper space. He was in the artificial air they breathed, he was the mourning they each enacted in their own way. Mourning for him.

It could have been seconds or weeks before his consciousness coalesced again, gathered back in his battered body.

His first thought, once he was himself again, was one of a grim satisfaction. Vader would regret not escorting his body personally to wherever it was going. It had been a mistake to revive him, to improve him, to use him after betraying him, to betray him again. Even half-dead, half-ethereal, he was more than a match for a measly six Stormtroopers. He wasn't simply using the Force, he wasn't just in it, he _was_ the Force.

Galen Marek stood on his own feet, his mind feeling clearer than perhaps it ever had. He moved on pure instinct and impulse, and the shuttle he was being transported in was hardly more than another limb. With a twitch of his fingers, even from the cargo area he'd been stored in, he deactivated the alarm systems holding him in check. With his mind and a clenched fist, he destroyed the ship's communications system, preventing whatever crew was piloting the craft from sending a distress signal.

He took his lightsaber from the belt of one of the Stormtroopers that had been guarding him. The body bore the insignia of Commander, and the stench of burnt flesh still smoked from the spaces in his armor. He activated the blade, the familiar snap-hiss and the blue-green glow was as comforting to him as a mother's lullaby.

He knew what he had to do. With the Force to guide him, he would be unstoppable. The Empire would fall.

-

Alderaan was a beautiful planet. Galen had never been there but he knew instinctively where the Palace was, and that was where he needed to be. Though his enormous awareness of the Force was finally starting to wane, while he was becoming mere man again, he was still a tool of the Force. It allowed him to slip undetected past the planet's security, to land the small transport directly in the courtyard of the palace. He engaged the landing ramp and opened the door. He prudently left his lightsaber on his belt and exited the craft with his hands held non-threateningly in front of him.

He was greeted by easily half of the Palace security detail, but the Force was with him. Despite the Imperial markings on the ship and his own no doubt haggard appearance, they did not fire on him. He moved two of his fingers, crooking them almost imperceptibly. "I need to see Senator Bail Organa." He tilted his head slightly, curled his fingers a little more. "Please."

Two of the security force stepped back, their fellows closing rank. Galen could hear them running and he knew they were doing as he asked.

He fell into a comfortable stance, attempting not to seem defensive. The blasters leveled at him did not waver, even when a commanding voice shattered the tense silence in the courtyard.

"What is going on here? How did this ship get in here?" Bail was frantic and angry, the tone of his voice betraying his feelings.

The Senator broke through the ranks of his security. He was armed with his own small blaster, but it dropped as soon as Bail saw his unexpected guest.

"Ga-"

Galen held up one hand and shook his head. "Please, Senator. I'd prefer if you'd address me by my call sign. Though I trust your people, I'd rather remain relatively anonymous."

Bail hesitated, then nodded. "Come, Starkiller. We will speak in my quarters."

-

It took a bit of fast talking from Bail and a lot of innocent silence from Galen before Bail's personal security guards allowed Bail to close the door on them, leaving the Senator alone with an intruder. Bail moved around the room, shutting off recording devices and holo-projectors. Galen stood silently beside the door, waiting until Bail turned towards him with an astonished look on his face.

"You died." Bail broke the silence.

Galen nodded, his eyebrows furrowed. "I must have. I intended to."

"What..." Bail hesitated, he seemed to have too many questions, and an awareness that there weren't any answers. "What are you doing here?"

Galen paced the room, looking around nervously. "I have a plan, to damage the Empire and help the cause of the Rebellion."

"You _are_ the Rebellion." Bail sounded sincere, and Galen's chest felt tight with emotion he didn't dare express. Bail's reassurance meant worlds to him. "Anything you need, the Rebellion will do its best to provide. I'll contact General Kota and Captain Eclipse immediately..."

Galen stopped his pacing, turning to fix Bail with a serious stare. "No. I need to do this alone."

Bail blanched. "You can't be serious. Captain Eclipse..."

"Cannot know I survived." Galen stepped closer to Bail, reaching to touch his arm, to help impart the seriousness of his words. "This knowledge is a liability. My plan will be quiet, but it must also remain secret. If Vader manages to figure out my intent, I will not have him coming after the greater Rebellion, and especially not after Juno." His throat closed around her name and he turned away, struggling to restrain his emotion.

He lifted his head when Bail touched his shoulder. It was a fatherly gesture, and Galen remembered that Bail's daughter was near his age.

"I understand. You don't expect to survive this mission, then?"

Galen shook his head slightly. "I don't know. I hope..." He hesitated, then shook his head. "Hope is blinding. A distraction. Action is what we need now."

"I'll commission you a transport. Name the ship, I'll get it for you, whatever you need, whatever you can fly."

Galen sighed, turning around to face Bail. "Thank you, Senator, but I can't accept that either. I will be making some fairly obvious visits to a number of systems, if all goes well. I won't risk exposing you if I'm caught in an Alderaanian fighter or freighter."

Bail attempted to protest, but Galen forestalled him with a raised hand. "I only need a few things. Access to Rebellion funds and a ride to a space port where I can find a crew. I think maybe Corellia."

Bail raised an eyebrow in understanding. "You intend to do this work in a smuggler's ship?"

"It's the smartest route. Harder to track."

Bail nodded. "I can arrange a diplomatic trip to Corellia. You can stow away. Anything else?"

"If you could find a way to hide or destroy the transport I flew here in..."

"Of course."

"And..."

Bail smiled. "And what?"

"I could use some new clothes." Galen gestured to the scorch marks and tears marring his own outfit, ducking his head sheepishly.

Bail actually laughed, and the sound of something so giddy made Galen's chest feel tight again. "Of course. Let's get you to a 'fresher, shall we?"

"Thank you, Senator." Galen paused, then reached to grip the older man's wrist again. "For everything."

-

"There is one more thing."

Bail had come to check on Galen in the cargo hold of his diplomatic transport. They were approaching their return to real-space.

Galen shifted, still adjusting to the clothes Bail had provided him with. They were stiff, as though they hadn't been worn in some time. Which was probably true, Galen couldn't imagine a time when the stately Senator would have need of combat-ready garb.

"What is it?"

Galen took a deep breath, fortifying himself with the Force. "You are well known as a friend to the Jedi Order." Galen started. Bail nodded, clasping his hands and leaning forward, fully engaged in Galen's words. He hoped Bail would be as open when he made his request. Though they trusted each other, Galen knew the topic at hand was a touchy one at best.

"I need to contact the remnants of the Jedi. They are integral to my plan."

Bail pursed his lips. "The Jedi Order is long since eradicated." He said carefully. Galen could see the half-truth in his eyes.

"But some Jedi must have survived the Great Purge. My father did." Galen struggled not to let his voice tremble. Now was not the time to be sentimental.

"Lord Vader has done his best to hunt down any who escaped after Order 66. You know that." Bail's voice was light, but tainted with accusation. Galen wondered how much Rahm Kota had told the leaders of the Rebellion about his past.

"General Kota survived even that. Some must have. And I think you know."

Bail closed his eyes and Galen knew he was correct.

"I just need to know what planet. Where to start." Galen sighed when Bail moved to stand. "Senator Organa. Please." He reached for Bail's wrist, and the Senator didn't pull away. "I swear on the memory of my father, I will never betray you or the Alliance again."

"Call me Bail." He shifted his arm until his hand lie in Galen's assertive grip. "You will find what you seek on the planet Tatooine."


	2. Smugglers

It took a fair amount of not-so-subtle persuasion to suss out the best options available to Galen. Most smugglers shied away from transporting sentient cargo, and those who were less worried about such technicalities had a tendency towards bounty hunting on the side. The trick was finding the right crew with the right kind of ship and little love for the Empire.

He narrowed his search down to two possible ships based entirely on word of mouth, but it quickly became apparent that the much lauded Millennium Falcon wasn't currently on Corellia.

Instead he found himself seated with a smallish man in red with a cock-sure grin of pure confidence.

"Captain Marvelous," he introduced himself with a two finger salute. "Of the Free Joker.

"Thank you for meeting with me." Galen said softly. Marvelous' grin never wavered, it was as though his mouth was simply shaped that way.

"You need system-to-system transport for people, I am definitely your guy. Maybe not as fast as Solo, but safer. Never been boarded." It was a boast the size of which could hardly be believed, and yet spoken with such utter surety that Galen could hardly find himself willing to doubt him.

He sat back in his chair, folding his hands on the table to restrain the impulse to persuade. "I've heard a lot of rumors about Captain Solo."

"And they're probably all correct. Don't get me wrong, bastard flies like no one else in the galaxy. But you don't want speed when you're working with the kind of cargo that can't comfortably hide under the floor, you get me? You need subtlety for that."

Galen smiled and gave a little nod of concession.

"Where are you headed, anyway? Wait," he lifted one hard to beckon, and Galen turned to examine the newcomer, holding three drinks as easily as he might carry one. Tall, taller than Galen, dressed mostly in green.

"Yo," he greeted with a low voice that belied his youthful face.

"Basco ta Jolokia," Marvelous made his grand introduction. "Literally the greatest navigator in the galaxy." He took one of the drinks from Basco and raised it in a toast that Galen accepted.

"Solo's got his Wookie, yeah, but I'll tell you that in the off chance I ever did get boarded, nothing's going to raise the ire of the Empire more than a crew that can't speak Basic." Basco nodded in agreement.

"Anyway." Marvelous certainly liked to talk. "You were going to tell me what this job entailed."

"Certainly." Galen met the Captain's eyes and held his gaze steady. "First, I need to get to Tattooine."

Basco raised a curious eyebrow but made no comment.

"First?" Marvelous' eyes shone, and Galen thought he knew why.

Considering the massive amount of underground support for Han Solo and his Millennium Falcon, Galen had a feeling that the Free Joker might be a little hard up for jobs. This could be either a blessing or a curse.

"Sounds like you're looking for a long-term ship." Basco's voice didn't betray anything, but he exchanged a glance with Marvelous and Galen felt good about it.

"I am." Galen admitted. "Long haul. A lot of stops that I'm not even sure of yet. And, if all goes well, a fair number of passengers by the time it's over. And, if at all possible, no Imperial involvement."

Basco sat back, but Marvelous leaned forward.

"Sounds tricky." Basco's voice didn't shift at all, his tone was as confident as Marvelous' grin.

"Sounds awesome." Marvelous smirked and spread his hands, elbows on the table. "What's pay like?"

And here was the moment of truth. Galen drained his glass, his free hand slid to his thigh where his lightsaber rested. "Significant." He had an idea of how much he could offer, and it was actually quite a bit more than he thought he'd ever need. The Rebellion was nothing if not well funded. It was the matter of direct action that they had trouble with.

Marvelous and Basco exchanged another glance, but this one was so charged with the Force it caught Galen off guard. It seemed impossible to imagine a pair of smugglers with even marginal Force sensitivity making it safely through the galaxy. Yet there it was, glowing like fire. Galen had all the more reason to trust their boast that they had never been boarded.

He had to have their ship, and them. It was the will of the Force, he knew it.

Galen took his hand from his lightsaber and pressed both flat to the table. He could feel that the cantina serving as their meeting grounds was nearly empty but for the tender behind the bar. Still, he leaned closer and spoke in hardly a whisper.

"I am operating under the graces of the rebellion to restore the republic." He confided in them.

Finally, Basco's mask slipped for a moment and he allowed himself to show an emotion other than polite indifference. His physical mask slipped too, Galen caught the tell-tale shimmer of momentarily visible ridges near his cheeks. He'd never have otherwise guessed that Basco was a shape shifter. This pair was full of surprises.

"Regardless of whether you two ever become more than my personal chauffeurs, I can offer ten thousand credits a head when I've completed gathering the people I need. I can provide food and fuel for the trip itself, as well as cover any necessary repairs for your ship. But..." it was a trump card, but they seemed willing to play the game to the hilt. "I hear tell heroes can be incredibly well paid, once all is said and done."

Basco regained his careful composure, but Marvelous couldn't seem to even keep himself still. He stood up, saluted again, then offered his hand to Galen.

Galen smiled and grasped the Captain's hand.

"You've got a deal, my friend." The Captain smiled, a wide feline grin. "What should we call you?"

"Friend works." Galen chuckled, then shook his head. "My name is Galen Marek."

-

While the trip from Corellia to Tatooine wasn't too terribly long in a ship like the Free Joker, it had at least given Galen a chance to do a little research on the planet itself. It was the sort of off-handed stuff PROXY normally would have included in a briefing, and Galen missed the droid quite a lot. He'd never be able to admit it aloud, but he missed PROXY almost more than he missed Juno, which he supposed made sense, having known PROXY since he was a child. 

Galen was the first to exit the ship as soon as they docked, in a spaceport called Mos Eisley. There was something refreshing in the air of Tattooine. No, not the air, but in the living presence of the planet. Marvelous had assured him that any Imperial presence on the desert world was negligible and purely for show.

"The Emperor doesn't care a womp rat's tail about this planet. It belongs to the Hutts in all but name. It's a gangster world, a smuggler safe haven."

But he didn't need his new Captain's words to convince him, that much was obvious to Galen the second he set foot in the sand. He wasn't sure how he knew, but the Force assured him that Darth Vader had never shown his black mask on Tattooine. The Jedi who was hidden here had made a wise choice.

Galen could feel the Force. Not just in the living creatures milling about the busy spaceport, but a specific and strong call. There was someone here, near enough to Mos Eisley, who could use the Force.

He left Marvelous and Basco in a cantina and found someone willing (with a little persuasion) to rent him their land speeder, and he let the Force guide his hand as he piloted across the wastes.


End file.
